


I Love You, Spencer

by honeyhurts



Series: Yes, Daddy [6]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:16:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27158494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyhurts/pseuds/honeyhurts
Summary: The finale.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s), Spencer Reid/Reader
Series: Yes, Daddy [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917643
Comments: 26
Kudos: 185
Collections: Daddy Spencer Reid





	I Love You, Spencer

**Author's Note:**

> Woooooo man. I’ve put off posting this because I didn’t want it to be over, but the time had come. From me to you!

(Y/N) had only two days to process everything before she was called back to work. Two days of sulking in bed, replaying the events over and over again.

‘I love you.’

And he had frozen.

‘I love you.’

And he had jumped back from her like she had burned him.

‘I love you.’ 

And he had walked out without a word.

That same feeling of longing and rejection on a loop for two days straight, only to be interrupted by the one thing she didn’t want to do. To see the one person she didn’t want to see.

She had pulled herself out of bed that morning with a huff, already on the verge of tears. She scoffed at herself.

‘It’s not even 7 a.m., and you’re already crying.’

Dressing herself had been just as hard. Every time she moved it felt heavy, like there was a dead weight hanging over her.

And now, (Y/N) was driving across town to work, where she inevitably would have to face Spencer.

The thought didn’t sit well with her. It stuck in her stomach, heavy and terrible, and made her nauseous. 

What would she say to him? Would she even be able to speak? Does he even want to talk to her?

By the time she pulled into the Quantico parking lot, her head was absolutely pounding. 

Every single step towards the building, through the halls, and to the office felt too quick, too rushed. 

Quicker than she liked, she was standing at her desk in the middle of the bullpen. Spencer wasn’t at his, and she sighed a breath of relief.

“You alright?” came a voice from behind her.

(Y/N) spun on her heel to find Emily approaching, purse slung over her shoulder. 

A nod. “Yep, all good,” (Y/N) lied through her teeth, busying herself with random papers strewn across her desk. Emily didn’t linger, and for that she was grateful.

Just then, Rossi came through, coffee in hand and a pep in his stride. “We’ve got a case, ladies,” he announced in a sing-song voice. Emily jumped on it, immediately heading for the stairs towards their meeting room. (Y/N) was not as eager. 

She stalled for a few more moments, relishing in the silence before resigning herself to following. When she walked in, the rest of the team was already gathered around the round table.

Including Spencer.

(Y/N) couldn’t see more than a mop of brown curls. His head was hanging low, practically buried in the case file laid out in front of him. 

(Y/N) mentally cursed him for not looking at her, silently begging that he would look just _once._

She sulked to an open seat, opposite Spencer and next to JJ. Garcia started her presentation, but she couldn’t bring herself to pay attention.

She didn’t know what she expected, but the sting of Spencer’s silent treatment burned her. Like rubbing salt in an open wound.

Well.

More like opening an old wound to pour salt in it.

She chanced a peek at him, only to catch his eyes. Spencer turned his gaze away quickly, fast enough that (Y/N) questioned if he had actually been looking at her.

His brows creased as he read, and it was everything she had not to scream. She wanted to scold him for frowning so hard, tell him it would only bring on a headache if he kept scowling that hard. She wanted to say anything to him, really, anything just so he would _look_ at her.

She kept her mouth shut.

And when Hotch ended the meeting with a curt “Wheels up in 30”, she was the first one out the door.

————————————-

The flight.

The landing.

The unpacking into another hotel room.

The first discussion with local PD.

It all blurred. 

It wasn’t until Hotch decided she and Spencer, along with Derek should be the ones to look at the crime scene. Which is how she ended up in the backseat of one of their squad cars while Spencer and Derek went over the facts about the case up front. 

Drowning them out wasn’t easy. Every time Spencer spoke, it felt like someone was driving pins and needles straight through her chest. Every syllable stung, heightened by the fact that he still refused to _look_ at her.

“You alright, baby doll?”

Derek’s voice shook her from whatever thoughts kept her. 

She cleared her throat, a sudden dryness seizing it. “I’m fine,” she stated in a tone that read matter-of-fact.

Spencer turned towards the window at her voice, choosing to busy himself with the scenery. 

And by scenery, she meant street signs and dirty sidewalks.

“You’re just being quiet,” Morgan interrupted her thoughts, voice alarmingly gentle.

(Y/N) bit back the scathing response that threatened to tumble out of her. It wasn’t Derek’s fault she was in a bad mood. And she couldn’t live with herself if she took it out on him.

So she swallowed the heated words and gave him a weak smile through the rear view mirror.

“Just don’t have a lot to say, I guess.”

At that, Morgan laughed. “You? With nothing to say?” He nudged Spencer then. “You think we should take her to the hospital? Something seem off to you?”

He was laughing too hard to notice Spencer shift in his seat uncomfortably.

But (Y/N) noticed.

She also noticed how he glanced back at her for just a split second. Barely meeting her eyes before turning away, but finally looking at her all the same.

She wondered if he could see the shadows lining her eyes through the layers of concealer she had piled on this morning. Or if he saw how she had chewed her lips raw. 

She wondered if he could see how in love with him she was.

Because this is what love looked like. It was tired eyes, and sleepy shadows, and chapped lips, and longing.

And it hurt.

It hurt to finally look him in the eyes for the first time since he walked away from her. The sting of his rejection intensified when their eyes locked, almost overwhelmingly so.

So when Spencer Reid looked away from her, she breathed a sigh of relief.

————-——————————

Two days. It had taken two days to solve the case. Spencer Reid’s brilliant little mind had only needed two days to sort everything out and pin down the unsub. 

(Y/N) felt rather useless, actually, since it seemed Reid had shouldered the entire investigation.

Maybe it was her feelings talking.

Either way, (Y/N) was miserable on the flight back. The rest of the team was either fast asleep or close to it. She, however, felt wired and wide awake. No matter what, she couldn’t shut her mind off. 

Spencer was sprawled out across the jet couch, arms wrapped around his satchel bag and a small spot of drool on his cheek. 

Looking at him like this hurt. Seeing him quiet and fast asleep, looking the same way he always did when she woke up next to him.

Everything about it hurt.

She was so swept away now watching him, that she didn’t notice Derek approaching until he slid into the seat next to her.

“Can’t sleep?”

And if that wasn’t an understatement.

She gave him a smile that felt off. “Looks like it.”

Morgan was quiet then, eyeing her. She felt exposed, too raw to be comfortable under his scrutiny. 

When he spoke again, it was almost a whisper. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

(Y/N) felt like her lungs were collapsing in her chest.

“What do you mean?” And she hated how her voice cracked.

Derek cast a quick glance at where Spencer laid fast asleep. It was short, but (Y/N) saw it.

“Pretty Boy and I are pretty close, you know,” he whispered, bringing his gaze back to her. He laid a hand on top of hers, so gently that she thought she might cry. “He told me.”

And she was choking. The lump in her throat worsened and she felt like crying. Crying for everything she had. Crying for losing it. Crying because Derek knowing meant she was no longer alone with the weight of her secret. Crying because Spencer would never know how badly it hurt to love him. 

But she didn’t.

She only said, “Oh.”

Morgan squeezed her hand. “So… Is there something you want to tell me now?”

(Y/N) swallowed hard. “I think I really messed up, Derek.”

And then the tears were coming. Too fast for her to stop them.

Derek tucked her head into his shoulder and let her cry.

And cry she did. She cried long into the night, until she fell asleep laying against Derek’s chest.

——————————————

(Y/N) woke up a few hours later to the jostling that came with the plane landing. She startled awake, jerking up from her place slumped on Derek’s shoulder. She wiped sleep from her eyes, and surveyed her surroundings. The rest of the team was up and awake, JJ and Emily chatting over two cups of coffee while Hotch and Rossi went back and forth on a crossword puzzle.

Everyone seemed content chatting away.

Except for Spencer.

When (Y/N) had finally managed to rub her eyes free of an traces of sleep, she caught his gaze from where he sat across the aisle.

He looked upset.

His eyes were sharp and focused on her and Derek.

More specifically, where Derek’s hand was laid over hers.

Sensing eyes on him, Spencer met her eyes, and quickly looked away.

And (Y/N) immediately missed it.

She missed him looking at her. She missed him talking to her. She missed him being around her.

She missed _him._

So when he looked away from her, his eyes falling to his lap, something inside of her tore.

“Good morning, Princess,” came Derek’s voice from next to her.

She spun her head to face him, and prayed the sting she felt didn’t show on her face.

“Morning,” she said hoarsely, clearing her throat and starting the process of gathering her things. Standing up, she apologized to Morgan. “Sorry for passing out on you.”

And Derek only laughed, brushing her off with a wave of the hand.

(Y/N) grabbed her jacket and bag, and pushed to the front of the plane in a rush. She didn’t want to be stuck there any more than she needed to be, especially with Spencer still avoiding her gaze like the plague.

The cool morning air nipped at her cheeks as she stepped off the jet, drying any residual tears that hadn’t cleared yet. She threw a quick “bye” over her shoulder at whoever would listen, and made for the parking lot.

Time to go back to her apartment.

Alone.

Again.

———————————————————

Gotcha had been gracious enough to give them the weekend off so long as no cases required their immediate attention, and (Y/N) had already managed to waste one whole day of it.

It’s not that she had been _trying_ to waste it, but she wasn’t in the mood to do much. Let alone go out and socialize.

So when her phone started blaring “Promiscuous” (Derek’s ringtone), she huffed and considered not answering.

But she did.

Like always.

“Hello, Morgan,” she sighed into the receiver, plopping down on her couch.

“Well hello to you too, Princess. You want to join me for a few drinks? The rest of the team is here.” She could hear the smile in his voice, and it made her feel all the more guilty for turning him down.

It’s just that “rest of the team” meant Spencer. And Spencer meant hurt. And hurt meant another night of wallowing on her couch for hours until she fell asleep for maybe 2 hours at most.

Her response was already pouring out of her before she could second guess it. “No thank you, I think I’m just gonna have a quiet night in.”

She could hear shuffling on the other end, and when Derek spoke again it was much quieter. “Princess, come on. We miss you.”

“You just saw me yesterday,” she laughed, and she meant it. 

“Is that (Y/N)?”

And she froze at the sound of Spencer’s voice from Derek’s end of the call. A pit grew in her stomach and she waited with baited breath.

Derek must have nodded because suddenly Spencer was talking again, much louder now. “Why isn’t she here?”

Ouch.

“She says she’s having a quiet night in,” Derek mocked, his teasing light despite the tension in (Y/N)’s stomach.

There was a pause.

And then, “Whatever.”

Double ouch.

More shuffling and then she could faintly hear Derek calling after Spencer with a muted shout of, “Where are you going?”

(Y/N) waited patiently, too anxious to add to the conversation any further. She could hear a loud sigh before Morgan returned his attention to her.

“I gotta go, Baby Doll. But I’ll miss you. See you on Monday.”

And the line went dead.

With a sigh, she tossed her phone on to the couch beside her. If she thought this weekend off was miserable before, it was nothing compared to the aftermath of hearing Spencer talking about her.

When had she become so tragic?

——————————————-

After her phone call with Derek, she had sat down for a movie, but had barely made it 30 minutes in before turning off the tv with a sigh. 

(Y/N) laid down on her couch and stared up at the ceiling. Alone in her apartment, the weight of everything seemed to intensify and press down on her chest.

If she hadn’t already cried herself dry, she might’ve fallen apart in a puddle of tears.

But she could only stare.

She thought about the first time she met Spencer, how smitten she had been by him. She had waltzed into the office in a daze while Hotch spouted off the job description in a rapid fire of words. And in her bliss, she had failed to watch where she was going and stampeded straight into a chest.

A very broad chest on a very long torso on a very tall (and handsome) body.

And she had been immediately taken by him.

From the way he stuttered out an apology, to the way his face flushed all the way down his neck.

She was enamored by him.

And it had all been downhill from there.

(Y/N) was lost in her thoughts when a knock on the door snapped her out of it. She heaved herself off of the sofa and shuffled to the door at a languid pace. Whoever decided to bother her this late could wait a few moments, she decided.

She didn’t bother with the peephole, instead choosing to swing the door open without care.

And she froze.

Spencer was there. Hand half raised to knock on the door again. He looked disheveled, curls strewn messily across his forehead and clothes rumpled. He dropped his arm upon seeing her, and silence filled the hall.

Spencer cleared his throat. “I want to come in.”

No “may I?”. No question. A demand. 

And she fell for it.

Her body moved aside on its own, making room for him to slide past her into the apartment. And he did just that.

Spencer was in her living room.

He was here.

With her.

In her living room.

“Since when does Derek call you ‘Princess’?”

Hearing him talk shattered any quiet that may have lingered. Her eyes snapped to his, and her brow furrowed.

“Is that what you came to talk about?” she asked, confused. “Spencer, if you drove all the way over here just to ask me about-“

“It wasn’t fair for you to use that.”

(Y/N) felt her jaw hang open. She wasn’t expecting to be interrupted, let alone so heatedly. Spencer’s eyes were burning holes into her rug and his fists had clenched at his sides.

“Use what?”

He bristled. “You said you love me.”

The elephant in the room was addressed. The cat was out of the bag. Ever cliche was true. She was face to face with the one thing she had avoided for days now.

And god it hurt so much.

Spencer rambled on, barreling through words faster than she could comprehend. “I know this is just about the fantasy for you, and that you might not mean the things you say when we…” he trailed off, searching for the words. “When we are together. But you can’t just-“ he stuttered, starting to breathe heavier. “You can’t just say that! And not mean it! Because even if it’s not real for you, it’s real for me! And that’s so unfair! It’s unfair to use that so lightly when it _means_ something to me.”

Spencer’s chest was rising and falling quickly, his panting filling the room and every corner in it.

(Y/N) was silent.

This was not how she thought this would go. She felt sad. She felt confused. She felt angry.

She felt lost.

Tears threatened to spill over when she opened her mouth to speak. “Spencer, of course it meant something to me.” She choked. “I didn’t mean to say it. But that doesn’t mean I didn't mean it. And you-“ Her voice broke. 

Spencer’s eyes were softer now, the fire in them completely gone. He reached for her. And she reached for him.

And then they were kissing.

And everything that had gone wrong was no longer important.

Spencer’s hands were pulling at her, yanking her shirt up and over her head in a rush.

“Missed you,” he managed in between kisses, hands working at her jeans now.

(Y/N) returned his eagerness, popping the buttons on his shirt one by one to expose the lovely planes of his chest.

In no time at all, they were naked and Spencer stepped back to look at her. He swallowed.

“Say it.”

And she didn’t need to ask what he meant.

“I love you.”

It was like something in him broke. He lunged at her, grabbing her thighs and hoisting her up to hold her. She clung to him, nails digging into his hair and lips seeking his hungrily.

Spencer maneuvered them both down the hall to her bedroom, too familiar with the route to bother looking where he was going.

When her back met the bed, it was gentle. Everything about this was hungry and wild, but gentle. He touched her like he was learning her and his fingers left goosebumps in their wake as he dragged them down her sides.

Spencer brought a hand up to grip her jaw, forcing her eyes to meet his. He scanned her face, memorizing it and dove in for another kiss. 

Tongues and teeth and lips and gasps.

(Y/N) reached between their bodies and gripped his member, hard and heavy in her palm. Spencer sighed into her mouth.

She stroked him quickly, desperate to get off, and it seemed Spencer shared her enthusiasm.

“Need you,” he moaned into her mouth, causing her to whimper in return. He pushed her hand aside and lined himself up at her entrance.

With one stroke of his hips, he bottomed out inside of her. (Y/N) let out a whine and wrapped her legs around his waist to keep him close.

She had missed this.

She had missed this feeling.

She had missed the sight of it.

She had missed the taste.

She had missed him.

So when Spencer swore under his breath and began a ruthless pace of thrusting into her, she unwound beneath him.

“I want to hear you say it again,” he groaned, pulling her hair back to expose her neck. He dove in immediately, lavishing her with kisses and bites (that would absolutely leave a mark). 

She gasped.

“I love you.”

Spencer pulled back, just for a moment while his thrusting paused. She saw it in his eyes before he said it.

It still devoured her all the same.

“I love you.”

—————————————————

Waking up at 7 the next morning was maybe not the romantic send off (Y/N) had been hoping for, but they still had work after all. 

They had spent the entire night wrapped in each other. (Y/N) would’ve thought it was a dream if he hadn’t held her even after they fell asleep. Waking up next to him made her feel right, something she had missed in his absence. 

Spencer had left her apartment early, running back to his own house to change into something work-appropriate. He had left her with a soft kiss and an even softer smile, promising to meet her at the office.

So she had gotten through the morning in a blissful daze, dressing herself quickly and speeding over to the office.

It wasn’t that she was _excited_ to see Spencer. She had just seen him after all.

She had just _missed_ seeing him.

That’s all.

When she waltzed through the glass doors that led into the bullpen, she felt a sliver of disappointment to find she had beat Spencer, but it didn’t last long upon finding Derek and Penelope bickering by his desk.

“Babygirl, come on! You’re telling me there’s no photos, no videos, no real proof that this thing exists, and somehow I’m supposed to just believe it’s real?”

“First of all,” Penelope cut in incredulously, “that _thing_ has a name. And yes, you don’t always need proof. Live a little.”

Derek rolled his eyes, turning to face (Y/N) now. “Princess, let me ask you something. Bigfoot. Real or not real?”

She almost laughed. Because of course this is what was so important at 8 in the morning.

She hummed, setting her bag down at her desk. “Real.”

Derek threw his hands up in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” he exclaimed, almost shouting. “Where’s the proof?”

“Actually,” a voice cut in from the doors, “the burden of proof falls to the side of the negative. So it would technically be up to you to prove he _isn’t_ real.”

Spencer.

Of course it was.

(Y/N) spun to face him, too quickly to be casual. His eyes were already on hers and his cheeks flushed under her stare. He flashed her a bashful smile, lifting his fingers in a half wave before shuffling to his desk.

Morgan seemed to caught up in his arguing to notice the exchange, thankfully.

“That’s bullshit, how am I supposed to do that?” 

It was almost laughable how upset he was over something so trivial, but (Y/N) managed to keep a straight face.

“Are you saying you can’t disprove the existence of Bigfoot?” Penelope teased, which only seemed to irritate him more.

“Whatever,” he scoffed, turning to Spencer. “Of course you had to come in with your facts and-“

He paused, eyes narrowing dangerously as a small sly grin began to spread across his face.

“Pretty Boy… Is that a hickey?”

(Y/N) felt like the floor had dropped out from beneath her. Spencer’s eyes widened comically as he slapped a hand over his neck. His eyes flashed to hers. Just for a moment before he looked away.

But Derek had caught it.

“Oh,” he smirked. 

Penelope still looked confused. “‘Oh’? What does ‘oh’ mean?”

Derek had only smiled at them, and it took only a few more moments for Penelope to catch on.

“Oh,” she gasped.

Morgan smiled and shook his head. 

“Oh.”

(Y/N) felt like she was going to die from embarrassment.

“So,” she tried, deciding to change the subject. “Spencer… Do you think Bigfoot is real or not real?”

For what it was worth, Spencer seemed less mortified than her, laughing boldly at her question. He stood from his desk and strolled over to her. He grabbed one of her hands and laid a gentle kiss on the back of it.

“Why don’t we talk about it over dinner?”

And that was okay with her.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhhh! It’s over!  
> This little mini series has been insane! This was just my little brain child that I didn’t expect to go this far and I’ve loved every part of it. Thank you all for actually wanting to read this and for being so kind along the way. I’m excited to move on to other plots and stories and projects! But thank you for reading this far! I’ll see you soon!  
> All my love to each and every single one of you xx


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